Mr Comatose
by happymealsandcastiel
Summary: When Cas randomly loses consciousness during a hunt and doesn't wake up, the Winchesters have no choice but to take him to the hospital. Dean doesn't know what to do, and since he isn't sure that Cas is ever going to wake up, or even hears him, why not tell him everything?


**A/n: Set somewhere in the ninth season after the vamp nest and Sheriff Mills. Yes some Destiel fluff and maybe some Sabriel fluff. I'm really busy right now, in reality I should have never started writing this, but I will try to write and update as much as possible. Reviews highly appreciated. And since I'm writing this as I go, any input as to storyline will be considered and again, appreciated. On with the story. **

**Chapter One **

~ ~ (TW: THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME SIGNS OF TORTURE)

It was a vamp nest in Colorado. Dean had gotten a call from one of the hunters there asking him and Sam to come and help if they could. It wasn't like they weren't busy, hell, they had angels to catch and a knight of hell on the loose, not to mention Crowley was off with the blade somewhere, but Dean knew they needed a break. Just a few weeks ago they had taken down another nest in Sioux Falls, so why not kill some more vamps?

Dean told the hunter that they would be there in a few days. Sam was off on another case, something about a witch in New York. He had made Dean stay behind, something about Dean needing to stay at the bunker just in case. Whatever that meant. While Sam was off, Dean had found that there wasn't much to do, other than drink and research. It wasn't all bad; with Sammy off his shoulder, he could drink all he wanted and the pain would just wash away with the booze.

Having a case was probably a good thing though, he knew there was a line and he didn't want to cross it with the drinking.

Since Sam was away, Dean had called up Cas and asked him if he wanted to come along, and to his surprise, he did. Cas said that he was near Colorado already, and he would meet him there.

And so here they were, standing outside a grey abandoned house, him, Cas, and the hunter who went by the name of Nathan.

"This is the place?" Dean asked, standing slightly in front of the other two, closer to the house.

"Yeah. I followed one of the grunts back to this place after they sucked out a truck driver," Nate says. Cas furrows his brow, but doesn't say anything. Dean looks at Nate and narrows his eyes.

"Sucked out?"

"You know, drank him. Sunk their teeth in him like straws and drank him like a blood slushie."

"Thanks for the image," Dean snorts. Cas watches the conversation, seeming to get more confused with each word that is said. He didn't say anything though, only looks at Dean as if asking him to explain. He doesn't though.

Sam had brought the Impala to New York with him, so Dean had taken another car from the garage in the bunker. It sits behind them on the road. It also doesn't have an arsenal of weapons in the trunk. Dean had been forced to bring the small amount of dead man's blood and a few knives that they had in the bunker.

Nate looks up at the house, studying the outside. It looks like a house you would find in a stereotypical horror movie. Broken window shutters, dead vines tracing up the siding, large holes in the roof. There is a black fence around the perimeter, encased in untrimmed hedges that look like they could suffocate someone. The only visible way in is through the front gate, but Nate decides the best way in will be over the fence at the side of the house.

"Great place for a witch's Halloween haunted house," Dean jokes. No one laughs.

The three of them stand there for a moment before Dean speaks up again.

"Well we're not getting anywhere just standing here are we?" says Dean. "Let's go get those sons of bitches." He grabs a knife from the car and starts toward the house without looking back to see if Cas and Nate were following him.

After he hopped over the fence he finds that where there is grass, it is long and it is wet, and it wraps around Dean's legs as he makes his way quietly through it. Soft grunts and the slap of shoes on hard mud tell him that Sam and Nate aren't far behind him.

"Ugh, what's that smell?" Nate says as they reach the side of the house. Dean can smell it too. He knows the smell of a body in decomp. Deciding not to say anything, he crouches against the wood panelling, motioning down with his hand so Cas and Nate do the same

Above Dean's shoulder there is a grimy window, and slowly Dean pokes his head up so he can see inside. Seeing no one, he cautiously crawls by under the window, holding a hand up so that Cas and Nate stay where they are. When he gets past the window and to the front side of the house, he waves his hand beside his face, palm towards his ear, still facing the front yard.

Dean is about to start forward when he realises that Cas and Nate haven't moved. He turns to look at them, giving a look of annoyance. Their faces are confused, probably something to do with the signaling.

"Get over here," Dean whispers harshly. He rolls his eyes and they shuffle over, looking at him expectantly. "Follow me."

They do and the three of them make their way to the front door, as there seems to be no other way in.

Dean stands on one side of the door, Cas and Nate waiting on the other side. Dean counts down to one with his fingers then turns to face the door and kicks it in with as much power as he can muster.

Splinters and pieces of wood fly out as the hinges break and the door clambers open before falling completely down. The door giving so easily causes Dean to temporarily lose his balance, stumbling through the door.

He regains it before Cas and Nate enter, and the three of them stand in the entranceway. There are no rooms on this floor, only stairs up and down.

"Nate, you're with me. Cas, go check upstairs and gank watcher you see. Make sure to slice the head clean off, okay?" Dean doesn't wait for either of them to say anything and takes the stairs down.

As soon as they get to the bottom of the stairs, the stench gets stronger, and Dean resists the urge to cover his mouth and nose with his hand and instead stay alert, shifting his knife in his hands. He can hear Nate behind him, making gagging noises from the smell.

The room is lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It casts an orange glow over the walls and floor. As Dean's eyes adjust, he sees that there are no doors. It is only that room. In the centre of the room is an alter made from chipped stone. There are symbols on top and on the sides. Long waxy candles stand on each side of the alter, and Dean immediately notices what's on it.

A woman, probably about 25 years old is stretched across the table like she had been tied to a Medieval rack. Her wrists and ankles are bound in rough rope. Her neck is sliced open, ear to ear, dripping blood down onto the alter and into the sigils on the side. She is entirely naked and etched into her bare chest is another sigil Dean doesn't recognise. He wishes Sam was there for a brief moment. He would know what it meant.

He tucks his knife into his belt, confident that there was no one there.

"This doesn't look like anything a vampire nest would have," Dean says. He goes to the alter and leans over the body, examining the sigil engraved in her chest, being careful not to step in any blood.

"That's cause they're not vampires."

"What do you mean?" Dean turns to face Nate and finds him standing there with a gun. He is sweating and the gun quivers in his hands.

"Really man?" says Dean. He takes a step toward Nate with his hands held up slightly in the air.

"N-no. You… you stay right there!" Nate shouts.

"Calm down Nate. Just tell me what's happening," Dean says as he looks around the room hoping to find something, anything, to distract him with.

"No. You don't understand Dean. You don't understand. But you will. You will soon." Nate's words are frantic. His eyes have gone big and they shift between Dean and the light above him.

"Ok, ok. That's fine. I'll just stay right here. You know, the aesthetics of this place are starting to grow on me. Now Nate, what do you mea-" Dean's words are cut short when a shot goes off. The room is suddenly very dark, and Dean drops to the ground. He fumbles for his knife.

Then he suddenly feels nothing.

When Dean wakes up he finds that he is lying in blood. The blood is cold and brown, and he quickly discovers that it is not his own. Gathering his bearings, he remembers the short showdown he had with Nate and remembers the room that he's in.

Instinctively, Dean grabs for his knife, but it is no longer tucked into his belt. Looking around the rooms, he soon notices that there is no one else there.

"Cas," he whispers.

Then he's up, and he's running up the steps, two at a time. His head is pounding and he's not sure why. He gets to the landing and turns to go up the other steps.

When he reaches the top floor his heart is beating quickly, and Dean feels the back of his head where the pounding gets worse with each heartbeat. There's a bump that feels like the size of his fist and he knows he probably has a concussion but he has to find Cas.

"Castiel!" he shouts. There's no answer. "Dammit."

Dean is more careful now, and searches the rooms for the angel. He doesn't want to come across Nate again. He was stupid last time. He hardly knows the hunter, met him once on a case in Texas. Damn Texas hunters. There's always something up with them.

He isn't sure what happened in the room, or how he ended up on the floor, but the bump on the back of his head tells him something. Dean can only assume that Nate must have shot out the light then hit him on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol when Dean had hit the ground.

And that time he had had a weapon. Dean was sure he could beat the punk in a fistfight, but he had a gun, so Dean wasn't sure he wanted to get that far.

Each door in the hallway opens with a squeak, causing Dean to flinch each time. All of the rooms are empty of both furniture and angels. The alter must have been the only thing in the entire house that rose up from the floor. Still, it made his search a lot easier.

Finally, he reaches the end of the hallway. There is only one door left and he still hasn't found Cas.

"Please Cas, be in there," he whispers. Taking a breath, he slowly turns the handle and creaks the door open.

"Oh thank God," Dean exclaims. Sprawled across the ground is Cas, face down and away from Dean.

Dean runs and leans next to the angel, shaking him.

"Cas, wake up." But Cas doesn't move.

"Aw come on man you're an angel for God's sake, pump up that mojo and get up." It doesn't even look like he's breathing. Does he need to breathe?

"Cas!"

**A/N Wow that was a long chapter sorry. The rest of the chapters will probably not be that long. I'm not sure when I'll update, but I should do. The rest of the chapters will be probably not as action-y, at least for a while. Please review! Any comments are welcome. **


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